


Paradise

by DistractedDream



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh the Abridged Series, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Established Relationship, Feefshipping, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Thiefshipping, YGOTAS, fuck buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 23:19:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10841544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDream/pseuds/DistractedDream
Summary: A brief interlude between Nefarious Evil Schemes and Marik gets curious to try something new. Bakura is far too willing to help him out.





	Paradise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BananaGhoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaGhoul/gifts).



> My first YGOTAS-based fic! I'm not sure how well I did, but I like how it turned out with them. This is totally smut/lemon/plot what plot and I'm not sorry. Not like I haven't done it before!
> 
> This is a story for BananaGhoul who inadvertently gave me the plot bunny. Please go check out her stories!
> 
> Thanks forever to The Best Beta, SerenityXStar!
> 
> I can be found on Twitter @DistracteDream and on Tumblr @DistractedDream. Please leave kudos or comments if you liked this! I appreciate every single one.

It was the quiet moments he loved the most. When they were too worn out to speak, lying tangled up in each other as their hearts slowed down and their breath stopped coming in desperate gasps. Limbs heavy and deeply sated, Bakura sprawled on his back and stared at the ceiling, wondering what he'd done to deserve paradise.

"Bakura?"

"Hm?" His fingers carded absently through the golden hair on his shoulder. Maybe he was just going to ask if they could take a nap. A nap with Marik's heat pressed against his side sounded marvelous about now.

"What does it feel like?"

The spirit withheld a disappointed sigh. No, Marik would want pillow talk. Of course he would. He swirled patterns over Bakura's pale chest and around the Ring, waiting for an answer. "Marik, I've been around three to five thousand years depending on the version we're in, but mind reading is not one of the skills I've acquired during that time. What does what feel like?"

"What does it feel like when I stick my peepee in your butthole?"

Scratch the paradise thought; this was hell. Bakura groaned, moving to sit up, but the tombkeeper went all koala on him, holding him down with a little noise of protest. He couldn't look at his partner. Not after he'd said that. "I never, ever want to hear you use those words in that order ever again." He scrunched up his nose. "Matter of fact, do me a favor and never say 'peepee' in bed again."

"In this bed? Or any bed? What if you're not in the bed?"

"Marik," Bakura growled in warning, steadily feeling less affectionate.

"Okay, okay." Marik smirked, shameless in his dumb blonde act. A featherlight kiss graced Bakura's jaw. "I just wanted to know what it felt like." The spirit gave him a skeptical look from the corner of his eye. Marik shrugged. "Does it hurt? Do you feel like you have to poop?"

He wasn't getting out of this, was he? Bakura dragged his palm over his face, pointedly focusing on the ceiling once more. "It can hurt, yes, but if it really hurt, I wouldn't do it."

"You stabbed yourself. I think you like pain." He nosed into one of the many bruises forming along Bakura’s pale neck. “You like when I bite you.”

"That’s different. Do you want me to answer your question or not?" Marik quieted, his head rising and falling with Bakura’s shoulder as he sighed. "Since we prep and use lube, it doesn't hurt. Maybe a little at first because..." He couldn't bring himself to actually say that Marik was hung like a horse aloud. "Because of the stretch. You like when I finger you during a bj, right?" His partner nodded, hair brushing over his skin and making him shiver. "Same kind of thing, only..."

Marik tipped his head up when his partner didn't continue. "Only what?"

He shifted his lower half, pleasantly sore and sticky. "More. Deeper." Bakura blew out a breath. "It's this full feeling, it's like... Like I'm full of you and I'm happy and I don't want it to end because having you inside me feels so right."

The tombkeeper hummed. "That almost sounds romantic."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "I suppose. Know what's more romantic? Shutting up and taking a nap."

Marik giggled. "Such a grumpy kitty." He reached for the sheet and tugged it over them, curling back into Bakura's side. Bakura had just closed his eyes, beginning to drift into sleep, when Marik spoke again, voice low and as soft as Bakura had ever heard it. "I think I'd like to try it. One time. With you."

* * *

"Gimme a B!"

"Marik."

"Gimme an A!"

"Marik." He growled, glaring up from his book at his partner.

"Don't you know how this is done, Bakura?" Marik shook a pair of gold pompoms at him. "Gimme a K!"

"Marik Sebastian Ishtar III, I am giving you nothing. What in the bloody hell are you doing with those things?" He snatched at one, but Marik hopped out of reach.

The blonde pouted, gold tinsel rustling as he pointed at Bakura. "You know what that Pharaoh has that we don't? Cheerleaders!" He sneered. "His goody-two-shoes gang stands on the sidelines with their friendship and their support and we don't have that. So!" He clapped the pompoms together. "I've ordered hundreds of these for the Steves. They can be at our duels and cheer for us and then we'll finally defeat the Pharaoh! Haha!"

"No." The crinkling of the pompoms was starting to grate on his nerves. "We are not having fucking cheerleaders."

Marik stomped his foot, pompoms on his hips. "You're no fun, Fluffy." Bakura grit his teeth and tried to return to his reading and ignore his partner ambling through the living room, occasionally swishing the pompoms.

It didn’t work. "Will you put those infernal things away?"

"Why?" Marik glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. The gold sparkled as he twisted his wrists. _Sssssswish_ , said the pompoms as he shook one at Bakura. A muscle under the spirit's eye twitched. Marik did it again.

Bakura set his book aside. "Marik," he warned.

Straw met camel. The slightest swish, too loud to be accidental, and Marik's smirk snapped Bakura's patience. He launched himself off the sofa, hands in front of him and curled into claws, grabbing at the offending things. Marik squawked and side-stepped him. Bakura swiped at them and Marik dodged, holding them above his head, his purple hoodie riding up higher. "No! Bad Fluffy!"

"Don't call me that!" Bakura snarled. The tombkeeper turned to dash off, but Bakura caught him around the waist, bare arms against his exposed midriff. Another time, he might have appreciated the contact, but he was too annoyed currently.  
  
The forward momentum of his capture propelled Marik against the wall, pompoms wedged under him to absorb the impact. He tried to push back, his arms weren't in the most comfortable position, but Bakura simply pressed himself hips to chest against his body. "Now, just settle down, kitty..."

The spirit growled and Marik's breath caught at the vibration of Bakura's chest against his back. "If you call me kitty one more time," Bakura hissed into his ear, making his earring swing, "I will scratch you." To emphasize his threat, Bakura dragged his nails lightly over Marik’s stomach. He wouldn't actually hurt his partner, not after that mess with Dartz, but he'd had enough.  
  
Marik suppressed a shiver at the feel of his nails and closed his eyes. The scrape was gentle enough that it didn't trigger any memories of his Initiation and Bakura's body weight felt wonderful holding him down. He swallowed until his throat wasn't quite so dry, twisting his head enough to see Bakura. He never did take orders very well. "Kitty."

Bakura's nails grazed his abdomen again and this time, Marik outright trembled. He arched his hips back, thrusting his ass against Bakura's crotch in the process. The spirit's eyes darkened as the energy shifted between them, one hand gripping Marik's hip as blood rushed to his dick. He scratched him again, barely more pressure than trying to tickle someone, and Marik tipped his head back, a shuddering sigh escaping him.

"I... I didn't say it that time," Marik protested weakly.

"Didn't have to." Bakura mouthed at Marik's jawline and over his throat where skin met gold. His nails followed the lines of the tombkeeper's abs, over and over, until Marik was grinding back against him, soft noises sneaking past his lips. Bakura wedged his arm between Marik's elbows to unhook the hoodie's chains, drawing down the zipper slowly to reveal Marik's chest. Bakura hummed his approval, nails scraping down the center of his core.

The pompoms tickled Marik's nipples and he squirmed, bubbly giggles welling up inside him. Bakura groaned, the blonde's motions making his dick harden, rolling against Marik's ass before he could stop himself. The laughter stuck in Marik's throat, face heating, his own cock starting to harden. Bakura's erection pressed between his buttcheeks and, biting his lip, Marik twerked, sliding his ass up and down the ridge.

"Marik," the spirit sighed, nosing his hoodie off his shoulder to nip and suck at the skin there. Marik couldn't do much with his arms still trapped under him. The blonde whined, his cock full now and pushing against the zipper of his khakis, his thong woefully inadequate to contain him when he had a hard-on. He wriggled, unable to press more into the wall without pulling on his lower back, whining louder.

Bakura chuckled into the joint of Marik's shoulder and neck, deft fingers working at his partner's khakis. His efforts were rewarded with a grateful sigh, the inside of the spirit's wrist slipping against his tip as he pushed the pants away. He released his partner's hip to fumble with his own jeans, cursing Ryou's insistence on wearing the tightest ones he could find. Freed of the confining denim, Bakura's hard cock fell into the split in the crotch of his boxers, hitting Marik's bare ass.

The tombkeeper paused before rocking back, skin slipping against skin. Bakura's hand traveled back around Marik's body, cupping the fabric of his thong where it covered his balls. Marik humped against Bakura's forearm, legs spreading without thinking about it. The movement was enough to draw Bakura's attention, nails teasing Marik's happy trail. The blonde was losing himself to the pleasure, rubbing his ass against Bakura's cock. The spirit blinked, the fog of lust lifting some. Marik had said he wanted...

"Wanna take this to the bedroom?" Marik only hesitated a moment before nodding. Bakura released him enough to pull off his own tee, Marik turning to face him. The blonde had to lean back against the wall, eyes dark with need, and Bakura closed the distance between them again to kiss him, licking into Marik’s mouth like he owned it, the Ring hanging forward and falling against Marik’s abdomen. Marik whimpered into the kiss, kicking his khakis off his feet when Bakura pushed them off his hips, leaving him in his thong and opened hoodie.

Bakura licked his lips as he broke the kiss, freely looking over Marik’s body. He slid his jeans off his legs, boxers following, added to the pile of discard clothes. Threading their fingers together, the spirit led them back to Marik’s bedroom. Marik stopped and eyed the bed, nerves taking over. Saying he wanted to try something and actually faced with it… Bakura tossed their lube on the bed and spun Marik to look at him. His lips found Marik’s collarbone, mouthing at his skin, fingers sneaking under his hoodie, pushing it from his shoulders. The blonde’s head fell back, letting the fabric drop to the floor. He felt himself walked backwards, the mattress hitting the back of his thighs.

“Lay down,” Bakura whispered, guiding the other to stretch out. The spirit swung the Ring around to his back and trailed his fingers up Marik’s calves. “Comfy?” Marik made a little noise of assent. Bakura crawled up the bed and Marik’s eyes widened, legs parting as Bakura pulled himself between them. They stared at each other, Bakura wetting his lips, Marik’s parted as a shiver of anticipation went through him. Bakura lowered his head until his lips hovered above the other’s. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Marik answered by looping his arms over Bakura’s shoulders and pressing their lips together. The tip of Bakura’s cock hit his hip and Marik lifted to rub against it. A groan slipped out of the spirit, ending the kiss to trail a line of them down Marik’s body. He undulated under him, following the path of his mouth, fingers sliding into Bakura’s mass of white hair. He felt Bakura’s fingers hook into the thong, lifting his hips as Bakura tugged it off.

The spirit sat back on his heels and picked up the bottle of lube. Marik laid spread out for him and the blonde squirmed, feeling open and vulnerable. Bakura took his time pouring the lube over his fingers, admiring his gorgeous partner. “Do you want to cum before we do this or wait?”

What he wanted to do was close his legs and escape those piercing brown eyes. He didn’t fight as Bakura positioned Marik’s left leg, bending the knee and dropping it to the side. Bakura breathed on the lube to warm it, waiting for Marik’s answer. “I… I don’t know. What’s better?”

Bakura hummed. “Cum first. You’ll be more relaxed.” His slippery fingers went to Marik’s crack, circling the hole. They’d done this numerous times, Bakura’s talented, thieving fingers driving into Marik’s ass as he gave him head. His cock twitched, body automatically responding to what it was expecting. The spirit grinned, kissing across Marik’s hips, and when he slid one finger into him, his lips closed over the tip of his cock.

Marik opened easily for the slim finger, carding his hands into Bakura’s hair. It wasn’t enough and Bakura knew it, Marik pushing down with a frustrated moan. He dropped his head lower as he added a second finger, lube squishing between them. He’d used more than usual and some dripped out down Marik’s crack. Marik shivered and pressed Bakura’s head down to take his whole cock. Bakura scissored fingers, working Marik open even as he choked on his length. His lips stretched almost painfully, throat tightening. His erection rubbed against the bedding and he hooked his fingers, searching out the gland that would make Marik scream his name.

He forgot about what they were going to do, grinding down on Bakura’s fingers and up into the wet heat of his mouth. When his partner found the bundle of nerves, sliding his fingers over it, Marik bucked into his mouth, crying out. Bakura relaxed his throat as he added a third finger, bobbing his head with each of Marik’s thrusts, sucking and finger-fucking him into ecstasy. “Ba-Bakura…” Marik moaned, head turning side to side on the pillow. “Ba-ah-KURA!” Marik’s eyes went wide and unfocused, pulling Bakura’s hair as his body tensed, cum shooting down the spirit’s throat.

Bakura’s hand, the one not buried in Marik, dove under his hips, squeezing the base of his shaft to keep from orgasming with his partner. He lifted his head slowly, licking and sucking Marik clean. When he finally looked up, his breath caught. Marik’s hair was in disarray over the pillows, making him look more like Melvin, but the languor in his limbs halted any fear from forming in Bakura’s mind. He was open, wrecked and wanton, erection barely diminished inspite of the orgasm. Bakura stretched over him, sucking at Marik’s lower lip until he kissed him back, and then rolling them for Marik to straddle him.

Marik pushed himself up, hands on Bakura’s chest, giving him a questioning look. “Ride me,” Bakura purred, hands massaging Marik’s hips. “You’ll control how deep and fast we go and gravity will make it easier for your body to take me.”

“Ride you?” Marik had a skeptical look on his face, glancing at Bakura’s swollen, red tinged cock behind him. “Like a cowboy? OH!” He clapped his hands, distracted from his doubt. “I’ll get my cowboy hat!”

“No!” Bakura caught at Marik’s wrists, tugging him back down. “No props.” He let him go, getting the lube and pouring some down his length, hissing at the chill. Marik’s hand stretched behind him, helping Bakura spread the sticky stuff over his cock. Bakura rocked into Marik’s hand, precum dripping onto his stomach. Red splotches formed along Bakura’s neck as Marik nibbled his way along it.

Marik’s lips found his ear, nipping the lobe. “You’re right,” he said. “I don’t need props when I have my favorite toy.” His eyes glinted with nervous mischief and he wriggled his hips back, holding Bakura’s cock steady as it nudged against his hole.

“D-don’t go too fa-ast…” He could feel Marik’s heat and his throat went tight. Bakura forced his eyes to stay open, watching Marik’s face scrunch up. Nerves, desire, and bravado all played across his face as he sat up, the tip of Bakura’s cock pressed against the rim of muscle. He balanced his hands on Bakura’s stomach while Bakura rubbed his thighs. Marik seemed to doubt himself for a moment before blowing out a breath and lowering himself down onto Bakura’s aching cock.

His lips already raw from the blowjob, Bakura bit down and knew he broke skin. It was just too good, Marik’s tight heat around him, the muscles squeezing and releasing as his body adjusted. Bakura had half expected Marik to simply drop down, to take him too fast and then whine it hurt and Bakura would be left with his own hand in a cold shower. But, blessed Ra, Marik listened for once, dropping down incrementally. Sweat glistened on his skin with the effort, panting in anticipation of the pain. Bakura’s fingers slipped over Marik’s body, murmuring soft words of encouragement, words not even meant for Marik’s ears, but dragged from his lips all the same. Marik tensed once, shaking his head like he couldn’t do it, Bakura grasping his cock and stroking gently until Marik thrust forward and, in pulling his hips back, lowered himself without thinking.

Violet eyes snapped open as he sat on Bakura’s lap, thighs wide, ass full. Bakura’s fringe stuck to his forehead and he froze, letting Marik adjust. Marik’s brow furrowed, giving a tentative wriggle. “It feels like…” His cheeks went hot, covering it by glaring at Bakura. “It does so feel like I have to poop!”

“Never said it didn’t.” Bakura smirked despite the situation. “It passes. Try, uh, try moving.” His eyes still narrowed like he didn’t trust Bakura, Marik circled his hips, grinding. Bakura groaned, bending his knees to give Marik a better seat. He still felt like he needed to go to the bathroom but Bakura’s reaction made him keep going. He lifted his hips, lowering them down slowly. Bakura’s fingers tightened on his hips as he sat back down so Marik repeated the motion, speeding up a little each time.

It was slow, much slower than the first time Bakura bottomed, but they fell into a better rhythm, Bakura thrusting shallowly, earning a gasp from Marik. He spread his fingers over Bakura’s chest, bracing as he started to bounce, cock tapping against Bakura’s stomach. Marik lifted his face to the ceiling, mouth open as he moaned freely, riding Bakura harder. Bakura clung to his hips, pulling him down as he pushed up.

The spirit shuddered, eyes drinking in the sight of Marik, of his gorgeous, infuriating, funny, amazing partner writhing on his cock. He’d wanted this, fantasized about it, Marik’s ass too perfect not to have his cock in it, and now that it was finally happening, Bakura’s heart thudded painfully in his chest, overwhelming emotions of lust and something else he wouldn’t name taking root. His fingernails dug into Marik’s hips, dick throbbing, and Marik moaned at the feel. “Marik, Marik, I’m gonna cum.”

Marik dropped his head to meet Bakura’s eyes, his own half lidded and the tiniest smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He fisted his own length, jacking as he moved. “Yeah? Then do it,” he panted, grinding down. He didn’t want to look away, he wanted to stare at those violet eyes until the last moment but as his hips bucked up, his eyes slammed shut, unloading into Marik until he was a drained and twitching mess. Bakura heard the surprised squeak from Marik, opening his eyes enough to watch him from under his lashes as the warm slickness of Bakura’s cum tipped Marik over the edge, jism spurting over Bakura’s abdomen.

Neither moved as they caught their breath, cum and lube dripping down Bakura’s balls. Marik recovered first, fingers trailing through his spunk. “It’s the same color as your skin.”

Bakura groaned, tugging Marik down to his chest. He squawked in protest, the mess spreading between them, but Bakura silenced him with a kiss. “It looks better against yours.” Marik nipped his neck in retaliation and pushed himself back up, frowning at the cum and sweat mixing on his skin. The spirit grinned and took pity on his partner. “How about we get a shower?”

His face lit up. “I’ll be the sexy cheerleader and you can be the football quarterback in the locker room after winning the homecoming game!” He tapped Bakura’s chest. “Though you’re a little scrawny for a quarterback.”

“I what?” Bakura rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You know what? Yeah, okay. I’m too satisfied to argue with you on that one.”

“And afterwards, we can get a Steve to bring us tacos and watch…” He pursed his lips in thought. “Cannibal Holocaust?”

Bakura laughed and drew Marik back down to him, kissing him, thinking maybe this was paradise after all. “You romantic.”


End file.
